Fortify
by ari87
Summary: She'd lost it. Let it slip through her fingers the moment she realized what IT was. It was life...it was home. It was Him. It wasn't her fault. She'd been too trusting and now, she was once again alone. But if she found it again, found him. She wouldn't allow that a second time. She was going to fight. Whoever she had to. She just didn't think she'd have to fight him for it too.
1. Prologue

The man sat lazily in a straight backed chair, his feet propped up on the tiny round table in front of him and his right arm casually raising and lowering the 25 pound weight as his left arm brought the cigarette to his mouth. The television in the background blared a comedy special as he chuckled to himself occasionally at bad one liners and overused punch lines. Low brow comedy was his favorite. Not too much thought and no long winded jokes to listen to.

The sound of a ringing phone caused him to exhale a puff of surprised smoke, looking over to the smaller table beside him where the electronic lit up with a strange sequence of numbers. For a moment, he considered not answering it. But it wouldn't be the first time an unknown number turned out to be legitimate, even at these hours. Begrudgingly putting the cigarette out in the nearby ashtray, he put the television on mute before finally picking up the phone after the fifth ring.

"Yea?" He answered gruffly, not bothering to stop the weight lifting.

" _Well."_ Came the nasally voice with a little too much pep to be believable. "If it isn't my _favorite_ news caster."

The man's weight suddenly dropped with a heavy thud on the carpeted floor as he sat up straight in the chair. Letting out a nervous cough, he continued.

"J-Joker. Hey. What are you…?" His voice trailed away as he tried to think of something to say. He'd had a couple of dealings with the clown via telephone only, and if he was completely honest, a couple was far too much. Each drop that he'd completed made him nervous with terror. Normally a hand off was made to one of his men or just left in an inconspicuous alley. So he'd been lucky to avoid any face to face interaction which he was more than thankful for. Because while it was much better to be on the Joker's good side, he preferred the anonymity.

He pulled the phone away from his ear as a giggle erupted on the other end of the line.

"D'ya miss me?" The joker continued as his laughter died down to a light giggle.

"What…um." He coughed, desperately thinking of something to change the subject as he wouldn't have to answer that question. "Where ya been?"

Luckily the Joker seemed not to care much about what he had to say in the first place. "Oh here and there. So tell me. How are things in Gotham without the party? Hmm?"

"They're uh…it's quiet." He said finally. "The cops are spending all their time looking for you. Makes it easy for the rest of us."

"Well you know I aim to _please_." He said drily.

The man continued, knowing that the Joker would want all of his information. "Santini's taken over most of the business for now. Ever since you killed his partner."

" _Me?_." The Joker let out a light giggle as he thought back to his cupcake's last outburst with a grin.

The man paused, wondering if he was supposed to respond before deciding to just continue with another uncomfortable cough. "But…um, it's pretty disjointed right now. People are doing what they want. And there's a new girl about the neighborhood."

That seemed to interest him.

"A girl?" He interrupted.

"Y-yea." The man said hesitantly, he much preferred when the Joker found little interest in what he said. "Been here 'bout a week. No one knows what the deal is but she's offing people left and right. Santini's tryin' to figure out what to do about it."

There was a long pause on the other end as he thought, wondering if the girl that he was talking about was the same one that irritated him beyond belief every time she dared to cross his mind. But of course she was. Of course she wouldn't be content with being alive. No, she had to force herself back in one way or another and surely her crime spree was her latest way of accomplishing just that.

"A week you say? Is she cute?" He said in a teasing tone.

"Yea." He said a little too quickly before backtracking. "I mean, I think. They're still trying to figure out which girl it is."

" _Are_ they? And what about you? Have you got this-ah…all figured out?"

The man was silent for moment too long. He wouldn't be able to get away with a lie at this point. "Working on it."

He laughed at this, not swayed in the least by his attempt. "Well why don't you do Joker a favor and keep working on it? Hmm? Keep an eye on our newcomer for a while. I want to ah…personally welcome her to the neighborhood."

Silently, the man punched the air in front of him, wanting nothing more to stay out of the whole situation, especially now that it involved the Joker and possibly one of the biggest mob bosses in the area. He had never physically met the Joker so maybe there was a chance the man would never find him. But he knew just as well as anyone else that it was wishful thinking. He mouthed a few choice words before finally letting out slow breath and putting the phone back to his ear.

"Okay." He said shortly, knowing that there was no other acceptable answer to a statement that hadn't been a question.

"Good." He said with a slow grin. "Gotta go."

The Joker hang up the phone before the man had a chance to reply, taking a moment to stare at the electronic accusingly as he sucked his cheeks, the smile immediately disappearing.

The loud noise around him that had been so much fun only moments before now starting to grate his nerves as he thought. Mentally, he scowled at the idea of having to deal with her again once they returned to Gotham. He'd told himself when he'd left her and the extra bag of money that she would likely run away, never to be heard from again so that he could move on with his work without having to worry about her invading his space, his life, and digging up old ghosts that were better left in their graves.

She was supposed to disappear. And then he wouldn't have to face the constant second guesses about the promise he'd made to her. The only one he'd ever made to anyone. Sure, it was the promise that he'd kill her one day. But it had surprised them both how quickly "soon" changed to "eventually." And now, from the sounds of it, he'd created a monster…one of his favorite pastimes. It angered him. But somewhere in the back of his mind there was a flicker of excitement. As much as he pretended to be annoyed, he couldn't wait to see this particular monster in action.

Grunting, he shoved the phone in his pocket and stood over the railing of the giant house that was quickly being transformed into the headquarters he needed for the short time he planned on being here, taking count of the growing number of men partying in the large open living room. He'd only been here for about a month so far, but since then, he'd managed to turn the five men left into nearly twenty. That was after the needed pruning of course. Some men just weren't made to be criminals and he was more than happy to dispatch of any ones that crossed him in the process of training. It was soothing and it kept the others in line.

He pulled his shoulders to his ears as his gloved hands gripped the railing, a deep frown on his face as he watched, unseen, from the balcony. These affairs were getting so dull and far too repetitive. Initially, he'd partaken in the gatherings in order to figure the new men out and offer himself a much neaded . But it was those initial gatherings that led to the killings. His fuse was exceptionally short these days and nothing made him feel better than a few stabbings. Now, he simply allowed the shindigs to continue because Dougie swore they promoted loyalty. Idly, he made a note to put a stop to them once they were back in Gotham.

"Hey Boss."

The Joker's lips twitched as he turned his head only slightly where one of the newer mean was bounding up beside him.

"The other guys want to know if we can get some girls. They're getting antsy."

He paused, chewing the inside of his cheeks for a long moment as he mustered up enough patience to bother before finally turning around with a large grin.

"Girls?" He repeated, leaning an elbow lazily on the railing, his voice returning to the nasally tone that he was used to. "Now." He waved a finger at the man. "What did we say about bringing back strays? Hmm?"

"Yea. Yea. I know." The man gave a sheepish chuckle. "They're trouble. We was just making sure."

"That's right." He continued in a voice strained with impatience. Finally his grin gave way to the frown that had been tugging it down. "Now go." He growled at him.

The man visibly flinched, scurrying away without so much as a questioning glance.

Smirking, he turned to lean back on the railing as he let his mind wander over all the ways he was gonna twist her when he got back. Images flowed through his mind and blocked out the noise below that made him want to stab someone all over again.

******Yay, Part two! I'm still working on this so bare with me as updates might be about a month or so in between. Once again, this is a sequel. So if you haven't read break me, you should definitely get over there and do that because you may or may not be lost without it. It's a great story...even if I am a little biased. But you don't want to get into Chapter 1 without it! Or maybe you're into prequels? Either way. Hope you enjoy the ride. :) ****************


	2. Chapter 2

It had been three hours since she'd left the old, dank garage and she hadn't stopped walking since. Her shoulders ached from the odd angle of the heavy bag on her shoulders and the thin blanket did little to cut the cold air rushing through the night and whipping loose strands of brown hair around her cheeks. Every now and again a sharp twinge of pain ran down her back, but aside from that, she felt nothing. Her toes and fingers had long since gone numb from the constant chill and her heavy boots dragged the ground, kicking up dust and rocks as she walked along the roadside.

The moon, hanging high and full in the sky offering the only source of illumination along the flat lands and allowed her to make her way with a decent amount of light casting a pink glow throughout the sky. Far in the distance, at least 5 more miles she figured, she could see the sharp, jagged buildings of Gotham rising out of the ground, it's dark shadows in sharp contrast to the peaceful surroundings so far outside of it.

For a long time, she'd considered just leaving Gotham and building a life somewhere else with the money she had. But the fantasy didn't last long. She told herself it was because the cops everywhere would be looking for her, and Gotham was home. There, she could figure out how to navigate the seedy underbelly to remain off of the rader…or at least out of reach of the police. She knew that they didn't dare venture too far into the narrows, and up until the last few months, neither did she. But it's funny how quickly one is able to adapt when adaptation is a matter of life or death.

Entering the lobby of the hotel a couple of hours later, she took a moment to stop in the doorway, shivering off the cold. The wind finally stopped as the door closed with a whoosh behind her. It wasn't necessarily warm in the open area, but it also wasn't freezing and that change was rapidly starting to make her realize how cold she really was.

Glancing around, she could see that the inside of the hotel wasn't much better than the outside. Outdated décor littered the small area. Mustard yellow couches with badly patched holes lined the walls, and she could tell from nearly 20 feet away, that the rusting lamps had been in dire need of a dust for at least a decade. A carpet that seemed to have been orange at some point browned beneath her feet and just glancing around, she could see the corners of tired wallpaper protesting against old glue. It was clear that the place hadn't redecorated since it was built in the thirties, and the last good cleaning not long after. It was all well and good, no one actually needed a hotel in the narrows. No one that was up to anything legal at least. They were simply catering to their clientele.

It was relatively empty in the lobby. The check in clerk, a husky man around 40 or so with dark curly hair, sat behind a bullet proof glass, reading a tabloid magazine, and a 'couple' walked past her towards the stairs, not giving her a second glance as their eyes and lips remained on each other. Otherwise, there was nothing.

Pursing her lips, she strolled to the counter with large steps, anxious to get out of her cold clothes. The clerk however, didn't even bother to look up as he flipped the magazine to the next page, his forearm leaning on the counter as he hunched over lazily, humming an unheard song. She could see from here the mustard stain on his pale blue tee shirt from a late dinner and a watch that was much too tight for his wrist ticked away as if mocking her as she stood there quietly for what seemed like forever.

Finally, with a roll of the eye, she spoke.

"I need a room." She grumbled, trying to complete the interaction in as few words as possible, her head aching from the long walk here and her body trying it's best to warm up from the harsh cold she'd been subjected to.

The man took a moment to finish reading the page he was on before glancing up, giving her a quick once over under bushy brown eyebrows before turning back to his magazine. "No." He said finally, flipping the page.

She narrowed her eyes in confusion, looking up at him. That hadn't been the response she was expecting. "What?"

"I don't rent to working girls…sorry." He said lazily, not bothering to look up again.

As if on cue, a tall girl clad in a tight leather printed skirt and frizzy blond hair that was clearly a wig strolled by the desk, ignoring both of them as she headed to the door wrapped up in a matted, faux leather coat. The both watched her leave before Arella pursed her lips and looked at the man indignation.

He turned back around as well before giving a careless shrug. "She's just visiting."

"I'm not a prostitute." She growled angrily, annoyed at both his insinuation and the blatant lie.

"Don't rent to druggies neither." He muttered

"I've never even smoked." She continued, her lips pursing tightly as she could feel her anger moving from zero to dangerous almost immediately.

The man didn't notice though, or if he did, her anger didn't faze him. Rolling his eyes, he looked up again. "Well then you're obviously lost. Why don't you go back uptown? This isn't a place for a girl by herself." He said mockingly.

"I don't need your opinion, I need a room."

"And I need a model girlfriend and a mansion, but yet, here we both are."

She took a deep breath, trying hard to remain as calm as possible. "Rent me a room." She said slowly, pulling out a wad of bills from her pocket and slamming it on the counter. "Or I'm taking my money elsewhere."

He looked at the stack of money, his eyes widening slightly before flicking the toothpick in his mouth and looking up at her with a disgusting smile. "Well why didn't you just say so?" He slid the money off of the counter before turning and grabbing a log book off of the shelf and a barely sharpened pencil. "What's your name?"

"Ar…anastasia." She said, her nose twitching as the name rolled off of her lips. She'd always liked it, but it was strange that it was the first one that came to mind.

He looked up with a skeptical brow. "Does Anastasia have a last name?"

"Pick one."

"Anonymity is extra."

"Don't push it." She said stubbornly, glaring at him.

He chuckled, standing slowly off of the creaky chair and pulling a key off of a hook and tossing it into the tray, pushing it towards her. "You're in room 615." He said casually, sitting back onto the stool and leaning closer "And uh…if you need any medicine or anything, let me know. I gotta guy."

She tilted her head, looking at him in complete disbelief after the completely unnecessary exchange she'd started with. But he didn't seem phased at all. Snatching the key of the counter, she flashed him an annoyed glare before she simply started off, anxious to get out of the cold clothes. Taking a few steps, she paused, turning around with a slightly interested brow.

"What else can your friend get me?" She questioned hesitantly.

"Just about anything. For a price."

She nodded, turning again and trudging up the once grand staircase. Her body ached more now than it had for the entire walk here. Maybe because she was finally so close to rest and her body realized that as well. She was also steps away from collapsing from complete exhaustion. She just hoped she'd make it to the room first.

It was a busy night at the hotel. Prostitutes moved up and down the hallway quickly on their way to their next johns. Men of all types hung out near the doors, eyes unabashedly glued to her as she moved down the hallway to her door. But she kept her eyes glued to the ground, not wanting to bother with a single one of them tonight. She couldn't handle anything else right now and simply wanted to sleep.

Finally, after what seemed like a trek, she hurried into her room, slamming the door behind her and shoving a weathered chair against the doorknob for good measure. As if the heavy bag on her back had been stemming any other possible negative feelings, as she dropped the dead weight she immediately felt all of the anger and sadness bubble back up to the surface. Taking a despondent look around, she let out a shaky sigh, trying to hold back the tears to no avail. Falling onto the dusty bed, she curled into a ball, crying for what seemed like the 10th time in a couple of days. She hated that she felt so lost right now much like a child who had suddenly been left so very much alone. And even though her body was screaming from exhaustion, it took hours before she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Halfway across the globe, the Joker paced back and forth outside of the 4 story apartment building in the middle of a very busy..very dirty street. Right where he was at home. For days he'd been skipping around the city looking for a place to call home for the time that they were here. And this place, right in the middle of everything was perfect. It was barely standing and had few of the modern conveniences of home, but his men didn't seem to care. They spent most of their time mixing with the locals and away from him. It was for the best. He had been irritable nearly the entire time that they'd been here and was in no mood to be bothered. An irritability that was compounded by the painfully slow process of acquiring a proper hideout. But this place…

Holding his arms out to his sides as if presenting the place to the non-existent crowd, he finally let out a happy sigh.

"Now this." He wagged a finger at the building before turning to the uniformed officer beside him and throwing a tight arm around his shoulder. "This is what I call a house." He said excitedly, squeezing the man's shoulder before bouncing off to one of the ground level windows and bending over slightly to squint into one of the windows, picturing all of the traps and bombs that he could set up in the doorway. Not that he would need it. Crime occurred freely here and the police had their hand in the pot just like everyone else. No one would stop him in the short time that he was planning on staying here. A year at most before he had everything that he needed. He hadn't been excited about coming here in the first place, but it was refreshing.

Standing up straight, an unseen grimace crossed his face as a shot of pain interrupted the movement. But he wasn't about to show weakness in front of his new friend.

"This is a dump." The police officer said in slow English, not bothering to remove the cigar from his mouth.

"I know." He giggled, looking at the man as if he had just told a joke that no one was getting. Giving an exasperated smack of the lips, he rolled his eyes. "You people, never know what you have right in front of you."

Changing the subject, he threw his arm back around the man's shoulder. "Now remember our deal. You keep your boys in blue away from my humble abode, and I'll keep the money flowing. Hmm? I'd hate for my business to be…ah…interrupted." He waved a wad of hundreds in the man's face.

"Deal." The man took the money. "But there are other men in this town. Dangerous men."

The Joker let out a shrieking giggle, not worried at all about whatever dangerous men present. "Well they all work for me." He finally removed his arm from the man's shoulder. "Even if they don't know it yet."

Giving a quick grin, he straightened the lapels on his heavy purple coat-that was probably a bad idea in the heat-and walked towards the door ignoring the man's nervous glance that was probably meant to be hidden.

"Go buy yourself something nice." He waved the man away over his shoulder as he pushed open the door. "You and your friends are gonna be doing a lot of overtime soon." And with that, he ducked into the building, kicking aside a mess of old newspaper and dust before slamming the door behind him so that he was once again alone. The noise outside fading to a muffle. For a second, he considered not telling Dougie and his men about the new place and simply enjoying it for himself. But that would be extremely counterproductive if he ever planned on getting back to Gotham.

Lifting the side of his coat, he peered at his left side with a frown, making sure that none of the stiches had popped before lowering it again. It had only been a few days since he'd been shot, and though he was excited to get back to work, if he didn't take it slow than healing would take a heck of a lot longer and he hated being wounded. It just got in the way.

Taking another glance around the room, he wrestled a cell phone loose from his pocket, quick dialing a number and putting it to his hear.

"Heya Dougie. Why don't you come get a load of the new digs?" He grinned

 _A chilly breath left her lips as she stood in the middle of the all too familiar street. Pajamas that were much too small caused the cold air to rush across her bare ankles and the tight pigtails made her head ache. That part was new. But aside from that, everything looked painfully the same. The old yellow car parked as if it had never been moved, the heavy wooden doors that lead to safety beckoned her, but her feet remained planted. Mentally she screamed at them to move, but there was nothing. Her body was betraying her once again._

 _"_ _Hey! Little girl, I said Let's go." The voice came close to her. And before she could turn around she felt the tug on her braid causing her to cringe._

 _Turning on her heels, she looked up to see the man beside her, tugging her hair as if it was a leash to pull her back towards the club._

 _She shook her head, pulling her hair away from him. "I don't want to go in there." She protested, her voice coming much softer than she cared._

 _"_ _Yea well you don't have much of a choice." The man gave a large grin, grabbing her hair again and pulling her back towards the club to little protest. Inside her mind was screaming at her to run away, to stab the man like she would any other, but she just followed. Like a good little girl._

 _'_ _This isn't how it's supposed to go.' She thought to herself, looking around the street in desperation. This wasn't how it happened._

 _Finally her eyes landed on him, leaning against that same wall and staring at her with blue eyes full of humor and strangely, a face full of makeup._

 _"_ _Walt…"Her voice trailed away in relief as she looked towards him. Waiting for him to say his line. To finish this reoccurring memory the way she was used to._

 _"_ _Heya Cupcake." He grinned, "Looks like there's a party in there." He thumbed to the club entrance before crossing his arms again, not even bothering to give the other man a wayward glance._

 _"_ _No." She shook her head, even as her feet continued to follow the other man closer to the funhouse door where the prostitutes stood waiting in garish makeup and furs. Why couldn't she stop moving? Why wouldn't she run away from the man? It was angering her but her anger did little to change the fact that she kept following._

 _"_ _Don't want you to miss it." He held his arms out before letting out a round of cackling laughter. A laughter that was echoed by the men and women at the door._

 _She whimpered in fear, lifting her hands to cover her ears and block out the laughter, but it wouldn't stop. Looking up at the man who had a firm grip on her pony tail, her mouth dropped to see that he too had on that makeup that she'd become so accustomed to. Scanning over the crowd, they all did. And all of them, every single last one of them were laughing at her as if she were the butt of a joke._

 _Turning back to look at the wooden doors that led to life as she knew it, a sob left her throat as they finally came to the door._

A loud bang forced her awake in terror. Letting out a short scream, she bolted up in bed, looking around her room for any indication of something out of place. Her hand reached over to the nightstand to fumble around for the gun there even as her eyes darted back in forth. But there was nothing aside from the raucous laughter and constant shuffling of people in the hallway outside her door. Another bang told her that it was simply the sound of people entering and exiting their own rooms.

She gave a relieved sigh, setting the gun back down as her shoulders slumped again. Brushing her sweat soaked hair away from where it matted to her forehead her eyes drifted over to the clock that flashed 2:37 in a low red glow. The television provided the only source of real light to the room as news reels flashed across the screen in silence. There was nothing unusual. Gotham had been painfully normal since she'd gotten to the narrows. But she still watched the news religiously because she wanted to know the moment there were reports of where he'd disappeared to. In the back of her mind, she knew that the news would be the last source to know, but it couldn't hurt.

Throwing the blanket from her legs and standing, she gave a tired yawn, hating how tired she was even as her body refused to let her sleep through a single night. Laying back down had been her first course of action for the first few nights. But by now she realized that nothing cured the insomnia except for a brisk walk in the cold night air. A walk that would buy her all of three or so more hours of sleep. She pulled on a heavy coat-the first and only things she'd purchased so far aside from a few other pieces of clothing-and tucked her weapons into the pockets before leaving the hotel room without another thought.

Even at 2:30 in the morning, Gotham was wide awake as people moved up and down the streets. On previous walks, she found herself wondering what on earth people could be doing this time of night, but it was probably best that she didn't know. Pulling the hood of her coat over her head, she stuffed her hands in her pocket as she kept her head towards the ground, not wanting to be bothered.

For the most part, if she kept the bulky coat covering most of her features, people left her alone. Every now and again, some brave soul would try to talk to her, but they quickly gave up as she dashed off. It was surprising how scared she used to be of the area. Maybe it wasn't nearly as bad as people used to say. Or maybe, having been subjected to much, much worse rendered this a cake walk.

She wasn't sure how long she walked in silence, her mind racing through so many of the decisions before her. She couldn't stay at the hotel forever. It was disgusting and demoralizing at best and horrifyingly unsafe at worst. She needed to find someone with information. Someone who knew where he'd gone. As much as she hated to admit it, all she wanted was to go back to the hospital, the garage, anywhere really. Anywhere was home as long as he was there.

Maybe this was all simply a test. A test to see if she would actually come back like many of the ones before. As if any of that was necessary at this point. She would always go back. Because he was hers, she was his, and though they couldn't stand each other for the most part, she wasn't going to stand for being separated. Not unless it was her own choice at least. The feel of a rough hand on her harm broke her from her musings with a start. Her body stiffened immediately as a reactive scream was muffled by a second hand on her mouth. Thick hairs poking from the skin tickled her face and made her want to vomit.

"Don't worry cutie, I'm not gonna hurt ya." Came the foreign voice in her ear, a promise that fell on deaf ears as she struggled to free herself from the tight grip even as he dragged her towards the wall.

Her eyes darted around the street in a panic for anyone that could help, but she suddenly realized that, in her daze, she had turned down a dark alley where the only things to witness the affair were the rats scurrying about.

The smell of old alcohol filled her nose as she twisted in his grip, her hand reaching for the knife that she had buried deep in her pocket. She wanted the gun, but she knew that at the unfortunate angle that she was being held, it would be near impossible to get a shot off. More so, she didn't want to draw any more attention than necessary.

"Come on." The man tried to coax her to calm down even as his tight grip told her that he didn't expect her to have a choice. "Sure you've done this before. If you're nice I might even throw a few bucks your way."

She let out another muffled scream in protest as she could feel her anger rising. Anger at the presumptuous man and anger that she hadn't put the knife somewhere much more accessible. The pockets were much deeper than she had thought. Her feet kicked against the ground as she tried to force herself to calm down.

Thoughts were coming so sporadically and all her mind could think about was breaking free of his grasp but she wasn't near strong enough. Not on her own. The only consolation was that her constant struggling was distracting. He didn't even notice her reaching for the knife. Didn't notice her body still as her hand finally wrapped around the hilt. Didn't notice much at all, not until she was finaly able to twist the knife around her back and plunge it deep into his stomach.

She'd never forget the sound that emitted from his mouth. It was what she imagined it might sound like to hear a man drown. But it only lasted a second before she finally wrestled free from his grip and stabbed him again. These interactions were starting to get old.

Silently, her eyes remained glued on him as she pushed the knife in further, taking in the face of the man that had followed her. He couldn't be more than thirty, and she could tell from his scent that he had probably just stumbled out of one of the nearby strips clubs. The smell of alcohol and fake strawberries clung to his jacket even in the cold night air.

His eyes widened as he stare at her with a mixture of disbelief and excruciating pain. But she only stare, her eyes reflecting every ounce of cold anger that she'd been holding in for days. Anger that had been compounded by her latest interaction. Finally, his knees began to tremble and his gaze flattened, sliding against the wall to the ground.

Arella pulled her knife out of his wound, staring at the man for a long time as she thought, feeling a welcome release from the depression she'd been feeling for so long. Maybe this is why he disappeared so often after their arguments. Even still, She was sick of these interactions. And even more sick of being viewed as a piece of meat no matter where she went in Gotham's seedy underbelly. It was as if she was reliving that same scene over and over again just with new characters. But that would end. As she stood in the cold alley, she promised herself that she was gonna command respect one way or another and maybe even help a few others out in the process. Just like she'd always wanted to. Just like the unjaded, unscathed Arella would have done before life had changed her direction. And in the meantime, she'd keep looking for him.

Starting to turn, a glimpse of something bronze peeking out of the man's coat caught her eyes. She tilted her head, trying to make out the object before bending down and pulling it free. Holding it up in the light, she could finally tell that it was a pocket watch. One that had been weathered by time, but was working none the less.

She looked at it oddly, wondering what kind of person in the narrows would bother carrying around such an object. But if she was honest, she kind of liked it. Tossing the watch in the air slightly to test its weight, she smiled slightly before shoving it and the knife and her pocket, leaving the dark alley to finally go back to her hotel.

Walking into the dim lobby, the clerk gave a lazy rise of the head before perking up. "Hey. Anastasia." He moved his legs from the counter to sit up straight. "Tell me, do they have a lot of brown people in mother Russia? Or did someone in your family just have a taste for the local flavor?" He joked, making an obscene gesture with his hands. She could tell that he'd been thinking of the joke for days waiting for her to walk by.

She hesitated in the doorway with pursed lips, thinking, before moving to the desk with determined steps. Leaning close to the security bars to avoid prying eyes, she pulled a few hundred dollars from her pocket and slid it towards the man.

"I need you to get your guy here, now." She said lowly.

The man hesitated, pulling the money closer and giving it a hungry glance. Spreading it out on the counter slightly, he finally leaned on his forearm and looked back up at her with a smirk.

"Yea. I'd love to. But my guy doesn't work nights." He gave a small shrug.

"He does now." She said with a frown. After their first interaction, she wasn't sure she could ever believe a word this man said.

The man raised a brow but gave another smirk. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." She said simply before leaning even closer so that her voice didn't carry. After that last thirty minutes that she'd had, she was high on power and wasn't in any mood to stop now "And if you ever talk to me like that again, these bars aren't going to save you." She threatened, not waiting to see the confused, trepidations look from the man before storming off to her room.

She had thought that the clerk would take his time calling the contact if he did at all. She'd even gone so far as to think of what sort of consequences she'd have to dole out if he didn't. But after taking a long shower and turning on the news as she had become accustomed to doing anytime she was within ear shot of the television, it was only a few minutes before she heard a heavy knock on the door.

Turning towards the door with a start, she frowned before turning off the television with a sigh. Unfortunately, even after the high that she'd been feeling earlier, much of that adrenaline had waned and she was no longer felt strong enough or in the mood to deal with whatever visitor she'd summoned.

"Who is it?" She called, pulling her wet hair into a pony tail.

"It's Ronnie." Came a husky voice through the thin door.

She rolled her eyes at the lack of explanation, opening the door slightly so that the chain on the door remained, peeking her head out of the small opening, she immediately came in contact with a broad chest. Looking up, she could see that the chest belonged to a mammoth of a man. His height only matched by the muscles peeking out of a not quite loose enough gray tee shirt and an easy pair of jeans. She could tell that she had probably roused him from a slumber as his freshly washed hair still hung wet against his shoulders and the smell of soap drifted towards her nose. Her eyes widened as she took him in before quickly settling back into a bored expression.

He raised a brow, waiting patiently as her eyes took in the sheer size of him. He seemed to be used to the reaction judging by the content look in his eyes. Rocking back and forth on his heels as if waiting, he finally spoke.

"So," He questioned finally, tilting his head to look at her under raised brows. "Are you going to let me in or what?"

She hesitated, craning her neck to glance around the hallway where many of the johns were looking at the man interested, wondering who it was that was finally going into her room. "I don't know a Ronnie." She said simply.

He let out a short noise that landed somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Are you serious?" He rubbed his short brown beard that made him look a little like Jesus if she thought about it.

"You're Anastacia, right?" He continued, gesturing at her. "Front desk Pauly said that there was a girl in room 315 that needed to make a purchase-at four in the morning." Tilting his head to double check the room number, he continued. "Well…that says 315, and you look like a nice girl. If I'm in the wrong place just say so. I've gota better things to do tonight then stand in this hallway." He gave a careless shrug.

"Are you armed?" She questioned, her voice both soft and stern, her nervous demeanor in sharp contrast to the remarkable level of energy her seemed to have at four in the morning.

He stepped away from her slightly, crossing his much too large arms as he studied her suspiciously. The subtle flexing answering her question. "Do I need to be?"

He was right, he could probably break her in half with a simple flick of the wrist.

She was quiet for another long moment, staring at him as she tried to figure out if this was a good idea, but her options were severely limited. And the one weapon she'd taken from the garage wasn't going to do much since she'd been out of ammo for weeks now.

"Hopefully not." She said with a purse of the lips, shutting the door momentarily to remove the chain and opening the door slowly, standing out of the way to allow him entry. "If you make a single wrong move, I will shoot you." She threated, though her voice shook slightly. She did mean it, at least she thought she did. Either way, it didn't mean she wasn't nervous. She knew that pulling the trigger in the middle of the thin walled hotel would bring hordes of unwanted attention. Hopefully he wouldn't see it that way.

"Hey, this isn't my first rodeo." He said lightly as he held up his hands, walking past her into the room and flopping down into one of the only chairs in the room, making himself comfortable. "But apparently that makes one of us. What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

"Did you come here to talk business or just to talk?" After shutting the door, she moved to stand clear across the room, as far away from him as she could possibly be in the small space. As annoyed as it was that he was making himself at home, it relaxed her a little that he was sitting putting them at nearly the same height.

"I'm flexible." He drummed his hands on his thighs, taking a quick glance around the room before continuing. "So what's your poison? You look too classy for meth which is the drug of choice around here. Maybe…heroin?"

"I don't want drugs." She snapped.

"Alright, alright." He held his hands up defensively, taken aback by her tone. "That's just a first. What is it, then?"

She swallowed, feeling guilty for her tone. Lowering her voice, she continued. "I need weapons. Guns mainly. But a few knives too."

"Really?" He looked at her with furrowed brows, his hands coming to rest on his thighs again.

"Yes." She looked at him uncertainly. "Can you do that?"

"I can get just about anything. What do you need them for? Are you trying to do some damage, or personal protection?"

She wasn't sure.

"That's none of your business." She muttered, not wanting to sound uncertain. "How much?"

He shook his head. "No, I don't talk money until I deliver. It's kind of like a good faith offering." He said, standing finally as if the chair was boring him.

Hesitating at the desk, she stare at him for a moment, trying to figure out what she was doing. Things were much harder without him here. She wished he would sit back down though. "I want to talk about it now. How much?"

He pursed his lips with a sigh, thinking. "It depends on the guns, based on what I can get for you on such short notice. But I charge a 2,000 discretion fee. That's in addition to the job fee and what you pay for the guns."

"2,000?" Her mouth dropped as her arms slowly uncrossed. "For what?"

"For keeping my mouth shut."

"Isn't that standard procedure in doing business?" She said, her hand pausing over the drawer where she had stashed some of the money.

"Normally, sure. But I don't know you. No one does." He crossed his arms again as he sat on the dresser against the wall which creaked in protest. "I always take the time to read up on who I'm meeting before I get here. So as far as I know, I'm taking a big risk bringing this to you and the bigger the risk, the bigger the discretion needed. If it's any consolation, it's a one-time fee." He said with a careless shrug. "Take it or leave it."

She paused for a long moment, debating on if she wanted to trust the man in front of her. But her options were limited, and without the Joker backing her play, she was quickly beginning to understand what a dangerous world it was that she was in. Her one saving grace was that she had reached the point where operating outside of the law was simply a way of life. Her gender may make her vulnerable, but her complete willingness to kill made life that much easier.

"Fine." She said finally, not wanting to admit her defeat. "But if I find out that you're screwing me over-"

"You're going to shoot me." He laughed with a slight mocking tone, running both hands through his long hair and shaking it out as if her threats did little to phase him. "Sure, I get it."

She ignored his self-righteous tone, moving just close enough to hand him the money before backing up against the desk again, crossing her arms in front of herself. "When can I expect them?"

He didn't reply for a moment, taking the time to count the money in hand before finally looking up. "Tomorrow. Meet me at the docks at six on the dot and we'll have some options for you to try."

"We?" She repeated, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"You don't think I have guns just lying around do you? I'm a runner. I have guys too. And you'll pay him for the guns directly."

"Why don't I just go to him directly and just save myself 2,000 dollars?" She muttered

"Go to who?" He said with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes hating that he was right.

"Look." The guy started with a sigh, scratching the back of his head carelessly and looking at her under bushy brows as if he regretted his previous smugness. "I don't usually do this, but you seem like a nice girl who's seen some shit-"

"Unless you're rethinking your fee, you have nothing to say to me." She said through clinched teeth, too tired to deal with anything else then what she needed tonight.

He paused, questioning whether he felt like continuing. "What are you going to do with all those guns once you get them? Do you even know?" He said accusingly

"You can leave now." She said through the same clenched teeth, turning away from him dismissively to face the desk where she'd stashed the gun…just in case.

"You're going to get yourself killed." He said in a warning tone.

Arella pursed her lips together, annoyed with the transaction already. The few bleeding hearts in the narrows and she'd managed to call one. Turning around, she lifted the gun in her hand, pointing it towards him.

"I said go." She said softly. She wasn't going to shot him, even if she'd threatened it. He was one of the few decent people she'd come across and she needed him to make the phone call to whoever his guy was. Even lifting the gun made her feel terrible, but he had to know that she was serious. She had to be taken seriously.

"Whoa!" Ronnie sidestepped the gun, reaching forward with a speed that surprised them both to wrench the gun from her hands before she could think about pulling the trigger.

A sound of pain left her throat as she quickly drew her empty hand back, cradling it before looking at him with a mixture of fear and apprehension.

"What the hell? Were you really going to shoot me?" He looked at her, more surprised than angry as he held the gun loosely at his side.

She didn't say anything, looking up at him wide-eyed as she backed up to the desk. There was no exit her and she was unarmed. There was a knife not far away from the bed if it came to that. But she had no desire to fight tonight.

"I'm sorry." She said quickly, shrinking away from him as she mentally panicked, trying to figure out what the man wanted and how she was going to make it out of here with her dignity intact.

"Do you see what I mean?" He gave a frustrated frown. "You're going to get yourself killed." He repeated, slower this time as if she simply hadn't heard him the first time.

Swallowing slowly, she looked away from him, angry that she'd put herself in this situation. Maybe if she could keep him talking. "Why do you care?"

"Because I know fear when I see it." He said after another sigh, clicking the magazine out of the gun and tossing it aside. Double checking the barrel, he eyed the empty weapon for a moment before holding it out to her. "Here."

She hesitated, looking at him in complete bewilderment for a long moment before reaching out to snatch the weapon, holding it closely to her as if it would do anything to still the heavy beating in her chest. Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax, but it only got quicker as she was suddenly realizing how little control she had over things right now. Maybe the man was right. Maybe she did need help. She was no closer to finding the Joker today than she was when she got here. And even if she did, she had no idea how she was going to make him suffer the way she had.

Sniffling, she could feel the anxiousness try to push tears from her eyes, but she held them back. There'd been enough crying. Glancing up at her guest, she could tell that her sniffling had unnerved him, he looked ready to bolt from the room at the first sign of a tear. If she'd known that she would have given that a shot instead of grabbing the gun. The thought made her chuckle mentally.

"How did you do that?" She asked finally, her voice thick with unreleased tears as she began to relax.

This seemed to set him at ease again.

"What? The whole…"He mimed the action, seemingly back in good spirits already. "That thing?"

She nodded.

"Maybe I'll show you one day. If you don't accidently shoot me first." He shrugged, turning towards the door, abandoning his previous line of thought in favor of leaving the room. Having a gun pulled on him was way too much excitement in one night as far as he cared.

Placing his hand on the handle, he looked over his shoulder. "And it's more than 2000 dollars now. But we'll discuss that tomorrow."

She pursed her lips, about to argue with the presumption, but thought better of it as a thought came to mind.

"Hey." She called after him as his hand rested on the handle. "Show me now."

He gave an inquisitive look over his shoulder, grinding his teeth together as he studied her for a moment as she stood in the middle of the room, her hands hanging heavily at her sides as she looked up at him under long lashes.

"Why should I?" He asked finally, trying his best to look annoyed with the situation.

She gave a slow lick of the lips. "Because." She hesitated, unsure if she wanted to be so open with the man so quickly. "I am scared."

He snapped his mouth shut again, looking away from her for a moment to eyes the handle as he thought. It would probably be best to leave right now, but he was a business man after all.

"If you teach me…that and a few other things. I'll pay you whatever you want." She offered.

Letting out a sigh, he turned around. "Fine. Tomorrow after we pick up the goods. And you'd better not be kidding about whatever I want." He said before quickly opening the door.

She opened her mouth to protest, but before anything came out, the door slammed behind him. Sighing, she ran a hand through her still wet hair and setting the empty weapon back onto the table. She wanted to kick herself for being so stupid. Of course she wasn't going to be able to strike fear into the heart of Gotham's criminals with a simple attitude change. She was going to need to be smarter, stronger, and much more capable. Flopping back down on the bed feeling suddenly exhausted and regretting her last interaction. Clearly she did need help, and maybe Ronnie could be just the one to help her get where she needed to be. He had the connections that she could use to her advantage and know how that could make her unstoppable. The thought made her smile through her exhausted haze. Though her plans didn't extend much further than tomorrow at 6, it felt good to have some direction after all this time. She just hoped that tomorrow would go smoothly.

The pocket watch on her nightstand ticked away slowly and was the sound that eventually helped her drift to sleep.

*****Poor Arella. I hate writing her like this. But she's slowly getting her strength back which will lead to some fun stuff later on. ;)

Not a whole lot of Joker in this chapter. But no worries. It'll only be about another chapter before he shows up. I'm so excited. I hope you guys like this one as much as the first. Sequels are always soooo much pressure. And trying to put this story on paper and out of my head has been a torturous six months worth of writer's block, deleted files, and rewrites. But we're moving again! (Mentally), I love the ending already and I'm sure you guys will too! As always, feedback is GREATLY appreciated.*************


	3. Chapter 3

He'd been stabbing the table in front for at least ten minutes, the knife in his left hand coming down in rhythmic arcs on the wood that was beginning to heavily splinter as each minute yielded more force. But he couldn't stop. The steady thudding was the only thing keeping him focused at the moment.

In his right hand he held the cell phone. The source of all his frustration as he stare at the same number repeating in neat little rows showing all the times he'd attempted calling over the last few days. All ignored. Initially, when the person on the other end stopped answering, the calls had just rang for a few moments before going to voicemail. Not long after, the rings were much shorter before being abruptly cut off. And finally. The calls started going to voicemail without ringing at all. The last one was the most frustrating. And every now and again he found himself hitting redial, not for any hope of an answer, but because the repetitive motion was quickly becoming a habit that he could do blindly as his mind raced.

The reports had stopped and he'd had no updates in weeks. Even the last few times that his informant had answered the phone, he could tell that something was off. He'd let it be at the time because there was still so much work to be done here before he and his men returned. But as the work began to draw to a close, the idea had begun to eat at him. Something had changed and he needed to know what. And when he figured out what it was, his informant, if unlucky enough to still be alive, was going to pay for his poor job performance. He was never one to suffer bad work.

Pressing the button again, only to hear the same voicemail message, he let out a low, impatient growl. His body shaking with rage contained behind a stillness that radiated just enough of his anger that his men had avoided him all day. He'd had enough.

Finally he stood, clinching his hand tightly around the knife in his hand in an effort to control his anger. But it didn't matter. Growling, his hand shot up to throw the knife across the room with such force that it nearly dislodged the door frame that it landed in. Picking up the phone, he dialed another number that was answered after the first ring with a silence. But it didn't matter.

"Get the men ready." He said, giving a dark grin. "We're going back."

(5 months earlier)

 _It was a heavy rap on her door that roused her from her slumber a little over a week later. She barely even flinched as her eyes slid open groggily to stare at the outline of the door in the dark room with a blank expression as if daring it to disturb her again. Not that it would matter much. She'd spent the last week favoring quantity over quality when it came to sleep and though she hadn't been able to force herself to do much more than shower over the past few days before passing out again, the sleep was the antithesis of restful. The cold numbness that had been creeping in steadily since that night at the garage had yet to abate. In fact with each passing day, she could feel its icy grip tighten around her like chains. Debilitating thought. Discouraging movement._

 _So here she stayed. In bed where she was safe. Where they were all safe. Here where she wouldn't have to kill anyone. There had been at least 6 people so far. And without him to assuage her guilt, she felt the heaviness of each and every one. Even when the adrenaline had initially given her a rush of endorphin, she felt it. No, she'd stay here. Much like she had in the ancient apartment she'd grown up in. Here where nothing could touch her._

 _Here forever._

 _At this rate, that's how long it very well could be. With the hunger tearing at her stomach, she wasn't sure how many more days she would last before having to go out for more food._

 _The sound at the door came again, heavier this time. An impatient rapping followed by the silence of someone listening into the room._

 _"_ _Ana, you in there? It's Ronnie." Came the call followed by another heavy knock._

 _She pulled in a sharp, annoyed breath before letting it come out slowly. Of course it was. He'd come by at least twice in the last week knocking just the same. But she'd ignored him each time. As far as they were concerned, their business was done._

 _"_ _I know you're in there." He continued impatiently. "If you don't answer the door I'm coming in. Front desk Pauly gave me the key."_

 _She frowned at that. The front desk attendant was an idiot, but surely he wasn't that dumb. Pulling the nearly threadbare blanket to her chin, she shut her eyes with another sigh beginning to drift back into restless sleep._

 _"_ _Fine." The sound of keys jangling in the lock caused her eyes to pull open again._

 _Front desk Pauly was that dumb._

 _Reaching forward to grab the gun from her nearby bedside table, she suddenly stopped, glancing at the door again._

 _'_ _What did it matter.' She thought to herself. If someone else didn't kill her, the hunger would. Maybe faster was better._

 _Pulling her hand back into the blanket, she gave a resigned purse of the lips before rolling away from the door to face the wall, drawing her legs close to her chest._

 _Finally, the door swung open, letting in a swath of yellow light into the near pitch black room for a brief moment before being shut out again._

 _"_ _Hey, you alive?" Came the voice behind her as she heard his heavy footsteps circle the bed before appearing in front of her, ignoring the near arsenal on the rickety round dinner table before leaning down to try and make sense of her face in the dark._

 _She only glared at him, studying him as his nervous face finally calmed._

 _"_ _Yea. I figured you weren't going out that easy." He finally stood up straight to take a glance around the empty room before crossing his arms. "So you ready to do this or what?"_

 _That wasn't what she was expecting at all._

 _She lifted her head slightly, surprised by his casual tone and his near refusal to understand the emotional state she was in; or the fact that he'd basically broken into her room. "What?" Her voice cracked, after days of nothingness._

 _"_ _Training. You wanted me to train you, right?"_

 _He had to be kidding._

 _She pushed herself up onto her elbow, staring at him with narrowed eyes as she tried to wrap her mind around what was happening._

 _"_ _You…broke into my room…stalked me…for training?"_

 _"_ _I didn't break in. I had the key." He reminded her with a careless shrug. "And I was just checking to see if you were dead. People were starting to wonder."_

 _"_ _What People?"_

 _"_ _Well…me and Pauly." He said with a careless shrug, taking another glance around the room, assessing the state of it. "So we doing this or not? And don't forget your offered to pay me whatever I wanted."_

 _"_ _Not." She said flatly, letting an annoyed breath out of her nose before laying back down and curling into a ball again, wanting nothing more than to drift back off into fitful sleep.  
If training was all he'd come for she wouldn't waste her energy arguing with him. She should probably be more cautious, especially considering that she'd only met the man all of twice. But she didn't care. There was nothing that he could do to her now that was worse than the hell she'd put herself in. The one that he'd left her in. _

_"_ _You said you would pay me." He said with a frown, crossing his arms as he leaned against the gun covered table without a second thought._

 _"_ _Then sue me." She muttered._

 _"_ _If I could I would." He responded before moving across to the makeshift kitchen, opening the nearest cabinet as if looking for something before moving on with an uninterested purse of the lips. "Look, I don't know what kind of mess it is that got you landed here. But whatever it was, this is a pretty shitty way to spend your freedom….and your money" He paused for a moment, wondering if she would respond. But when she didn't, he just continued, grabbing the only bit of food in the cabinet, a small bag of chips and opening it. "Why are you here anyway?"_

 _"_ _You asked me that already." She muttered, wishing he would just leave the room. He didn't belong here. But he also hadn't done anything to anger her quite yet._

 _"_ _And?"_

 _"_ _And it's still none of your business."_

 _"_ _You'll tell me one day." He gave a careless shrug._

 _"_ _You won't be around for one day." She muttered. Not a threat. Just wishful thinking._

 _"_ _Well if you keep this up, neither will you. You've already pissed a lot of people off. Mind as well work on some defensive training, you know…just in case."_

 _She perked up at that, looking over the blanket again. Wondering what it was that he knew. "Pissed off whom?"_

 _"_ _I just hear things." He gave a careless shrug before breezing over the question. "So. 200 bucks an hour seems reasonable, right?"_

 _The last part she'd barely paid attention to as thoughts started working over in her mind who it was that he was referring to. The list of people she cold have pissed off was short. Nobody knew about those six bloody nights. At least she was pretty sure that no one did._

 _"_ _What do you know?" She returned back to the initial question. "Who did I piss off and how?"_

 _"_ _Look, I don't know." He held up his hands in defense. "I mean I don't know names. I just hear chatter at the clubs. And you're not being as discreet as you think you are."_

 _She was silent for a moment, wanting to probe for more information, but she didn't want to give off the impression that she cared too much, or knew what he was getting at, so she changed the subject. "But I haven't pissed you off? Shouldn't you not be here?"_

 _He shrugged. "All I care about it money. I go where the jobs lead me and anything else I can handle. As long as you pay me, I stay loyal. And it looks like that's exactly what you need right now."_

 _She eyed him suspiciously, but the more she thought about it, Maybe he was right. The Joker wouldn't stand for her to be wallowing in bed like this for any reason. And would stand even less for her compromised will to live. If…when he did come back. She had to be ready. She had to be alive. And if the man standing in front of her was right, she was going to have to fight for both. It wouldn't hurt in the least to have all 6 foot 3 of that backing her up._

 _Letting out a sigh, she finally pushed herself slowly to a sitting position, flexing the muscles in her back that had gotten so little use in the past few days. Her nerves firing in relief after being forced to lay dormant like a bear rising out of hibernation. Her arms flopped back onto the bed as she allowed her eyes to flick over the man in front of her who was looking at her with a mild curiosity that just barely won out over the chips in his hand. He had pulled his long hair into a loose pony tail and had pulled on a heavy wool sweater that seemed like it was straining to stay intact over his muscles. It looked ridiculous, but she didn't turn away._

 _He was a strange one, for sure. It was a welcome change that caused a faint feeling to fire up inside. Nowhere near what she remembered at the hospital. But it'd do._

 _"_ _200?" She repeated finally._

 _"_ _Only cause I like you." He crumpled the bag of chips in his hand, glancing around for a trash can before giving up. "We can start tonight. After we get some food. I'm starving."_

 _She stare at him for a moment with a blank expression, thinking over everything that had just occurred. He had barged into her room like it was nothing and had somehow used her depressed, vulnerable state to talk her into paying him an exorbitant amount for training. All in the span of five minutes. Ignoring the guns, ignoring here reputation, and making himself far too at home in her space. It was…refreshing. The_ _thought brought made her chuckle, but she hid it behind pursed lips._

 _"_ _Fine." She said, standing and taking a moment to arch her back in a much needed stretch. She was still in a bad mood, and she still felt the depression just waiting to bubble up the minute she took a moment to let her mind drift from all the things that she had to do. But she didn't plan on letting that happen any time soon. She would pay his price. Because the training would keep her mind and her body busy. And when she was tired of paying the exorbitant amount. She would think of other things for them to do that would accomplish the same. Was already thinking of them actually. It didn't matter, that as she sashayed to the bathroom, she was imagining all those things with someone else. She was sure he wouldn't be able to tell. And he didn't. After spending hours on the abandoned powder covered roof of the hotel working on defensive maneuvers, he hadn't noticed a thing when she made her move. Not then. Not when she'd kept her eyes closed during nearly the whole encounter, not even when she'd almost gotten his name wrong and had quickly passed it off as a simple "oh". Her mind never strayed from who she wished was there. But far from being simple lust, she pictured his face if he ever stumbled upon this, if he ever found out. The day that would quite possibly be her last. Instead of scaring her, it gave her a sort of sick satisfaction. He had left her, sure. But if he thought that she'd wait for him like a dutiful servant, he was wrong. Wait…sure. But she was going to do what she wanted in the meantime. It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't what she wanted, but for now it'd do._

 _(S)_

 _"_ _Any word?" The mob boss' gloved hand stroked the lacquer table in front of him absentmindedly as one of his men spoke to him over his shoulder._

 _"_ _Nothing useful. I think you might have the wrong girl, sir."_

 _"_ _No. It's her. And she knows more than she's letting on."_

 _"_ _If she does, then she's being careful. No phone calls, no letters. Nothing. No one's even seen her lately."_

 _"_ _Give it time. She'll come in handy real soon." He said with a sinister smile._

 _"_ _Do you still need the police file?" Another man questioned, looking up from a slim laptop atop an almost laughably small desk in the corner._

 _"_ _No. Delete it. Don't want the boys in blue catching up to her before we have a chance to." He said, finally standing and moving over to slide a thin golf club out of bag, taking a moment to inspect it before going over to the makeshift green._

 _"_ _Mark my words, the Joker doesn't ever stay gone long. He'll pop back up again soon and when he does…it'll be like taking candy from a baby. Put the word out, she stays alive until I give the order."_

 _"_ _What do you want us to do now, sir?" The man over his shoulder questioned._

 _"_ _Just watch." He said simply before putting the ball into the hole._

"Anything?" Ronnie asked lazily as he lay out on the rooftop, one arm underneath his head as he focused on the night sky. A cigarette between his fingers.

She was silent for a long moment, her elbows digging into the edge of the building as she pressed the binoculars to her face, following the man in the alleyway below as he swayed through the narrow walkway on uneasy footing. It was clear, even from seven stories up that the he'd been drinking. Probably in one of the many strip clubs nearby judging as usual. It wasn't the first person to catch her eye tonight. But judging by the staggering confused gait, the man was just asking for trouble.

"No." She didn't bother to turn around, taking a moment to shake the soreness out of her left arm before bringing the binoculars back to her face. They'd been up here for nearly an hour scanning the streets below for signs of trouble. But the narrows was relatively quiet tonight. That seemed to be the case more and more these days.

"Surprise." Ronnie muttered, sitting up and grabbing a nondescript glass bottle next to him and tossing back a swig. His face scrunched slightly as he swallowed it back before letting out a satisfied growl. "Why don't we pack it in? I'm almost out. " He shook the bottle so that she could hear the bit of liquid slosh back and forth.

"Tragic." She muttered sarcastically, focusing more on the streets below.

"Oh come on. Let's go to the stacked deck. They have drink specials on Tuesdays and you haven't gotten out in a while. I mean don't get me wrong. Doing this every night is great and you're learning real fast. But you've been a downer worse than usual and-"

"Shut up." She muttered, standing to get a better look at the street below. Deep in the shadows, probably fifty feet away from the man, she could see a figure moving hidden partially by a large dumpster. Idly she wondered if this was how He'd been watching her the first night he'd let her loose in the narrows but she quickly brushed the thought away. Tonight she had work to do and thoughts of him always put her in an even worse mood.

"What? You got something?" He perked up, standing and rushing to the side to peer over, his hulking frame dwarfing her as he squinted. "Let me see." He grabbed the binoculars from her, bringing them to his own face.

She shot him an annoyed glare but gave a quick stretch before moving over to the large rifle she'd set up for this exact purpose. Kneeling, she place her cheek against the scope instead, eyeing the events unfolding and placing her hands on the handle. She could see the shadow a little more clearly now as he slinked around the corner stopping in front of the man. It was a scene she saw with decreasing frequency in the six months she'd been parked on various rooftops, but she wouldn't give up. Her ultimate goal was to find him. To see any sign of the clown masks in the city so that she could have some sort of lead, but she'd never admit that. As far as Ronnie knew, she was simply practicing with the sniper rifle and attempting to clean up the streets. But as each night passed with no new signs, she spiraled into a new round of depression as she slowly began to realize that not only was this not another one of his tests, but that she truly was alone. It felt like a knife twisting in her side every time she thought about it. But as a result, she was learning to enjoy the cold apathy that sustained most nights. It was better than the alternative.

To make matters worse, whenever she looked over the city, The bodies were everywhere. There had been so many that it scared her if she thought too much. It had all been self defense. Except for the few times that she was protecting someone else. But how many times could she put herself in the same situation and call it that. How many more bodies before self defense couldn't be used as a reasoning. Had she already reached that thresh hold? Was she already a killer? Quickly she shook the thought away. She wasn't. She wasn't a killer and she wasn't him. If anything she was saving lives.

But she could see them every time she looked out over the city in the alleyways that she'd frequented over the six months she'd been here. Not the physical bodies, of course. Those had long since been wrapped up in heavy black plastic bags and wheeled away with minimal fanfare by authorities who couldn't wait to get out of the area. But she could still see them when she tried. Where they fell. How they fell. How she'd felt when they'd fallen.

Angry.

It was always angry. Interrupted by the briefest of calms before the cold apathy crept back in.

She couldn't say why she'd decided to spend her freedom this way. And she understood the irony of it all. But she wanted to go back. Back where she was safe. Back where she didn't have to look over her shoulder for every wayward criminal or cop. She wanted to go home.

Nights like tonight were the worst. Nights when no amount of walking could squelch the sadness that bubbled up over the cold unfeeling that got her through most days. The sound of people's voices grated on her on these nights, and it was all she could do to isolate herself and try to do whatever she could to stop from circling the drain that would be the end of her. Nights where she could often be found on a rooftop trying to distract herself from every other thought that plagued her. Hiding out and trying to forget it all. The last six months, the last year. Hell, even the last twenty if she could. Back to before that fateful night in the alley when her childhood was jaded and the Joker was made. It was a nice thought for her to think about how she may have turned out. A fairytale. Nothing more. And it didn't last long before she was snapped back to reality.

So now she sat atop of her most frequented building, her feet propped up on the edge as she peered through the scope with little more than a throw covering her shoulders against the early spring chill. The sounds of the city drifted up in a strange cacophony of car horns, occasional shouting, raucous laughter, and popping noises which could be attributed to a number of things but probably only meant one. The sound of her gun would drown into the others making her nearly invisible.

"Wind's blowing west. Probably 10 miles an hour at most." Ronnie muttered to her. He'd been teaching her around the weapons she'd purchased since the night they came to their agreement. At least the guns. He never bothered with knives so she took to practicing on her own. But he also taught her some hand to hand fighting as well. And though she'd learned a little, she knew that he went easy on her despite his protests to the contrary, so she was in no rush to put her few talents to the test. And luckily, she hadn't had to. Rumors had been flying about whether or not she was the one causing such unrest throughout the narrows. But to her knowledge, it had never been confirmed. People were leary of interacting with her but she preferred it that way. The made up stories cast her as a vicious killer which was much more than she could ever want to be. So she did little to dissuade them.

Peering below, she could see the large group of men surround the drunkard who held his hands up defensively. Five on one. Two of which were carrying baseball bats. She pursed her lips, peering from face to face as she tried to figure out if she knew any of them. She'd only seen a few of the Joker's men in the garage that night and it'd been so long ago that she couldn't remember them if she tried. But she still hoped that seeing them one day may jog her memory. Tonight wasn't one of those nights. So as the first assailant swung the bat at the man's rib cage, she pulled the trigger.

The sound echoed through the narrow alley a split second before she could hear the thick piece of metal ping off of a fire escape not five feet away from the group. The men stopped, looking around nervously as if they weren't sure what happened.

"You missed." Ronnie muttered with a frown, but she ignored him, cocking the rifle and firing another shot, this time near the feet of the men, blasting dusty concrete into the air.

It was only another second of confused searching before the men finally dispatched: the assailants in one direction and the man clutching his side in the other. She didn't know what he'd done to wrong the others, but she'd at least bought him a little more time to fix it. It didn't fix her mood though. These nights rarely did anymore.

"Twice? You missed twice." Ronnie lowered the binoculars with a sigh before looking at her disappointingly.

She scowled, sitting back away from the weapon with a stretch before beginning to disassemble it. "I wasn't trying to hit them."

"Why not?" Ronnie continued, leaning an elbow over the edge as he tossed back the last of the bottle. "I'm sure you're gunning for some sort of record at this point. Go hard or go home, I always say."

She shut the case around the gun before flicking her long braid over her shoulder. "Some people deserve second chances." She said with a sigh. "And I don't know what that guy did or didn't do."

"Do you even care?" He gave a one sided shrug. The same shrug she often saw when he clearly disagreed with her but was unwilling to fight about it. Placing the top loosely back onto the bottle, he finally tossed it over the edge, leaning over to watch it hit the ground happily.

Of course she did.

"You could've hit someone." She said as if to prove a point.

"Nah. I aimed for the garbage." He shrugged her concern away as he crossed his arms atop the warm concrete, looking over the city, missing her annoyed tone. "Maybe we should try a different roof top later. If you keep coming to this one, you're gonna be found easily." Taking a second look over the edge at the neon lit strip club below he continued. "And the view is pretty shitty."

At only five stories up in a city where everything was a skyscraper, he wasn't wrong. But as she remembered walking through those heavy wooden doors, up the dirty red carpet and past the long since abandoned apartments that were now home to all manner of junkies and squatters, she couldn't help the unseen smile that crossed her lips.

"It reminds me of home." She said softly, thinking less about the dingy apartment and more about the dumb boy across the street that never learned to mind his own business.

Ronnie looked at her curiously, considering questioning her further. But it didn't matter. So he stood up straight, changing the subject.

"So. Stacked Deck?" He questioned again.

Arella rolled her eyes, annoyed with his predictability. But she didn't expect anything more from him. She didn't keep him around for his conversational skills or for the excietment. Glancing back over the horizon, she finally sat up straight, deciding that maybe it would be a good idea to get out for a bit. If nothing else it'd serve as a good distraction.

"Fine." The word came out more reluctantly than she meant. But he didn't hear it. He never did. Sliding her gun back in its holster, she stood with a stretch.

"There's my girl." He said happily, excited that he was spared having to stay and deal with her emotions tonight. Ignoring the impatient glance she flashed at him as she walked through the door and he bounded after her like an excited puppy.

It was nearly an hour later that they finally made their way through the heavy wooden doors of the stacked deck. As they crossed the thresh hold, the smell of old cigarettes and cheap alcohol hit her like an offensive wall of odor. Not to mention the smell of sweat as people packed all corners of the place. She hated the mix of odors. Mostly because it reminded her of him. She'd smelled the offending scents on his jacket a few times when he'd saunter back to the hospital late at night and fall into bed.

The lights in the room were dimmed, casting a yellow orange glow over the angled space that in less dive-like settings, might be mistaken for romantic. An impressive number of people stood around the cramped area that boasted no more than 8 tables and even less booths. They shouted to each other in boisterous conversation as if both had lost their hearing due to the overly large Juke box blaring in the corner. A few turned as she entered, Ronnie hurrying in behind her like a kid in the candy store, but those people quickly turned away when she looked up, not wanting to make the mistake of making eye contact. The rumors had been flying since the first week. They all thought she was unhinged and it wasn't worth it to most to try and get through the brick wall she'd been steadily building around herself. Instead, they side-stepped out of her way, trying their bests to make it look as if they'd always been planning to move that way.

Glancing to the left, she managed to catch the last group turn away from her quickly, going back to a fake conversation as they second glanced out of the corner of their eyes. She frowned, crossing her arms before moving to her favorite back table which was empty as usual. The big hitters usually had their own VIP rooms in the back and others rarely sat as they were more interested in taking in the festivities so she had no qualms with taking up the booth meant for a minimum of eight people.

"I'm going to go grab us some drinks." Ronnie said with a grin, bounding off to the wrap around bar.

Giving him a passing glance, she snuggled into the seat. Closing her eyes and letting out a content sigh. Even in this crowded place, it was nice to be alone. Unfortunately it was a peacefulness that wasn't meant to last.

"Ana! Hey! What are you doing here? "

She let out a quiet groan, already hating herself for coming out tonight. Forcing a smile on her face, she perked up as a girl with short curly hair-the kind of curls that old Hollywood movie stars would have killed for- slid into the booth next to her.

"Hey Lucy." She said with as much gusto as possible. "Ronnie wanted to come out. I figured I'd join him."

"Wow. Well good for you. I mean, I'm surprised he managed to convince you to be honest but I haven't seen you in forever!"

How on earth did she always attract the talkers?

"I know. I'm sorry. I've just been out of it lately. How are you?"

She considered Lucy a friend…for the most part. And she remembered the night that they'd met two months ago surprisingly well. Arella had saved her life that night in a dark alley that more experienced prostitutes used for cheap quickies. Lucy was relatively new to the game, and shockingly naive. So when a customer turned bad, Arella, in one of her famous bad moods, didn't hesitate to help her. A kindness that was repaid with a shadow that refused to leave. But she tolerated it. Because not only did Lucy remind her of her old friend Nora on the wrong side of the tracks, but she also had a ridiculous crush on the Joker despite the fact she'd never met the man. Not for her lack of trying. It was like listening to the ramblings of a a 12 year old girl when the topic came up. But it also allowed Arella to talk about the one subject that tore at her these days without anyone getting too suspicious. She wasn't sure about the Joker's reputation around here and she was almost certain that if anyone found out who she really was, it wouldn't bode well.

"Oh, you know." She let out a dramatic sigh, placing her elbow ton the table and rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "I was supposed to meet some guy here, but I don't think he actually showed up. I looked for like twenty minutes. And you know, at first I was kinda mad that I was stood up…again. But it really isn't the first time and now you're here! So it wasn't a waste after all." She grinned before holding up the drink in her hand. "Plus, like three guys have bought me drinks so whatever." She gave a dismissive wave with her carefully manicured fingers.

Glancing up at her, Arella finally gave a slight chuckle, enjoying the break from being treated like a social pariah. Try as she might, she'd never figure out why either Lucy or Ronnie stuck around. She was trouble.

"Did you at least get paid in advance?" Arella gave a careless shrug, unsure of how these things worked.

Lucy turned up her tiny nose, her mouth twisting into a contemplative pout before she gave an acquiescing shrug. "No, but I should at least start charging deposits, huh?"

"Wouldn't be the worst business decision."

"You're right." She said with another dramatic sigh, looking off into the distance wistfully before returning to the conversation. "I always thought that I'd be better at this, you know? But it's so hard. But I know it's just temporary." She said as if trying to convince the both of them. "I'll meet my dream guy one day, and he'll take me away from all of this. I'll be a kept woman. You know…like the movies." She gave a content sigh, before taking another gulp of drink.

"You don't have to wait for someone to come save you." Arella said with a look that verged on condescending but she tried hard to counteract with a soft voice. "You can just go." The words rang hollow in her ear. If only she'd take her own advice.

Lucy gave a soft, sideways smile, taking a moment to check the heavy cat eye makeup in the reflection of her drinking glass. "I can barely protect myself here, Ana. We can't all be as lucky as you."

Arella almost physically balked at the use of the word. Did Lucy seriously think that she just happened upon the ability to use a gun so effectively? Her eyes narrowed as she almost delivered a not so kind retort, but was interrupted by Ronnie who had finally come back to the booth.

"Hello Ladies." Her grinned, sliding a drink in front of Arella before sliding into the booth himself. "Lucy, I didn't know you were here tonight, you want me to get you a drink?" He thumbed back casually to the bar over his shoulder.

"Nope." She held up her nearly full glass with a grin, clearly having completely missed the angry look on Arella's face. "I'm all set. Do you guys mind if I stick with you tonight, though?"

Before Ronnie could answer enthusiastically, Arella flashed the angry glance her way again before quickly hiding it under one of exhaustion. "I'm sorry, Lucy. But I'm really tired tonight and just want to be alone." She said with strained patience. The sounds of the raucous music was enough right now. She didn't need that heavy New York accent that somehow managed daintiness at the same time in her ear.

Lucy hesitated, her grin falling into a pout. "Oh." She said, not quite sure what to do. Lokoing towards Ronnie for another answer that would never come.

"Maybe next time, okay?" Arella said with a fake smile, dismissing the girl from her presence.

"Okay." Lucy repeated with a hesitant chuckle, sliding out from the booth. "Bye Ronnie." She said before disappearing around the corner like a scolded puppy.

Ronnie watched the girl leave for a moment before turning to Arella with a sigh. "She doesn't have a lot of friends." He said calmly.

"What's your point?" She barely looked up at him, not feeling the least bit regretful as she put the drink to her lips and taking a long gulp.

Ronnie thought for a moment before giving a careless shrug. He cared much less about the girl's feelings than he did about having a fun night. And arguing would most certainly put the brakes on any good time he wanted. She was deeply in one of her moods tonight which was taxing enough to deal with. But the payoff was usually great for him even as others in the narrows paid the price.

For thirty minutes, the two of them sat at the partially hidden table, Ronnie chatting away as she maintained her blank expression in an attempt to hide how depressed she was still feeling. To be fair, getting out of the house had helped a little, but it wasn't enough. It never was.

"Hey! Hey Ana." The excited voice from her left brought her out of her musings. She looked up to see Lucy nearly running over to her as if completely forgetting their last interaction. "Oh thank god, you're still here." Lucy slid into the booth seamlessly, ignoring Arella's slightly narrowed eyes and Ronnie's wide ones. "You will never believe who I saw. Who's here." She said excitedly, almost shaking with excitement.

Arella cringed but turned towards her lazily, pushing Ronnie's heavy arm from her shoulder. He liked putting his arm around her in public. Probably because no one else was allowed to and he enjoyed the way it felt. For the most part, she let him because occasionally, she needed the contact. "Who?"

"He is." She said as if it were obvious. "The Joker."

* * *

 **Yay! Chapter two, finally, amiright? Lucky for you guys, the next chapter is practically done. I just couldn't wait to get the Joker back in town. Writing them so far apart is crazy hard! But our Arella is a survivor. Even if she's so focused that she's missing some of what's going on around her. ;) Somewhat of a slow chapter, but it was necessary to introduce some important characters to the rest of the story. It's gonna be fun from here on out so thanks for sticking with me!**


End file.
